


The Confidante

by Nerdymum



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Implied Sexual Content, Love Confessions, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-15
Updated: 2015-03-15
Packaged: 2018-03-18 00:53:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3550028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nerdymum/pseuds/Nerdymum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While shopping in Val Royeaux for the perfect gift for his sweetheart, Inquisitor Trevelyan is questioned by Dorian on his feelings for Josephine.  All recognizable names, places, and items are sole property of BioWare.  Thanks for reading!</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Confidante

Dorian snorted in derision, making no attempt to hide his dislike for Val Royeaux. He gazed at the scores of civilians decked out in thick brocades, velvets, and satins; their faces hidden behind elaborate masks in a variety of designs. He smiled smugly and held his chin aloft. What was the point of hiding behind these visages, he wondered? He was quite proud to show off his gifted looks, Andraste forbid he hide any part of his beauty behind some gilded shield.

He glanced over at the Inquisitor who had traded his usual dragonling scale leathers for a refined suit of "Inquisition" red and dark gray. In those clothes he looked so much more like the noble his surname suggested. He even shaved, the mage noticed. The usual growth of light stubble had been erased but he could tell by the faint shadow that it would soon return. And it was quite nice to see that he held himself well. He had been trained to be a true noble, even if he was from the Free Marches.

Currently, the Inquisitor, Ser Remy Yves Gerard Virgil Trevelyan, (yes, even he had one of those ridiculously long names nobles just loved to bestow on their young) was wandering around the markets in search of one very particular gift. He had already purchased a pair of gold and sapphire earrings, a set of hair combs with pretty flowers painted along the edge, and a sheer scarf of silk so delicate it looked like it would tear in his hands; but he was determined to find the very thing he knew existed in the capital of Orlais.

"Care to explain to me, my dear good man, just why in the world you thought it was a brilliant idea to bring me along?" Dorian asked and scoffed as he spotted an Orlesian woman proudly displaying a variety of leather-bound books of the "questionably romantic" persuasion for sale.

Remy smiled and waved in greeting as he passed a metallurgist's stall, recognizing the Free Marches banner stretched across the awning. The man in the stall bowed, his fist over his heart, and cheerfully expressed his allegiance to the Inquisition.

"I thought you would enjoy getting yourself a dose of culture since you've been complaining about Skyhold deeply lacking in it, as you so kindly described," the ruby-eyed man smiled crookedly. "Or would you have rather I left you back in that 'dank, dark, poor excuse for a library'? Besides, maybe you'll find some books to take back to bulk up our inventory, yes?"

Dorian nodded in agreement and decided it was better to be thankful for the trip rather than complain too much.

"Alright, fine. I am indebted to you for allowing me to flee the cage. Now, I'll ask again why we're truly here," he suggested and ticked his fingers over a bolt of fine green velvet.

A faint pink flush colored Remy's cheeks as his gaze met Dorian's. Beneath the pomp and circumstance and the barrage of titles he was bestowed with- Herald of Andraste, Inquisitor, Lord of Skyhold just to name a few- was a man who was in absolute adoration for a certain special diplomat. A chuckle rose from the Tevinter's throat and he wagged a finger at the rogue.

"Ah-hah! So, that's what this is all about! You mean to bestow precious gifts onto your lady love, hmm? Oh, Remy, you poor, hopeless romantic!"

"How am I hopeless, exactly?" the Inquisitor challenged, a wry gleam sparkling in his unusual eyes.

"Surely we didn't come all the way to Val Royeaux just to pick out pretty jewelry and fine scarves for Lady Montilyet. The merchants who have made their pilgrimage to the Hold seem to have brought some rather nice items. I even found a platinum bracelet at one particular stall that was attractive enough I had to have it." He held up his left arm for Remy's inspection.

"If you must know," Remy bit down on his bottom lip, worrying the flesh until it became dark red. "Leliana told me that there was a shopkeeper here who had unusual merchandise, as in family crests, and included houses that were no longer considered of Orlesian nobility. One of her agents reported that the Montilyet crest was spotted and placed on hold for me for the next time I made my rounds here. Josephine doesn't know I found it. I want to surprise her."

"So, that entire story about you meeting up with the Duke of Jarlsberg, or whatever cheesy name these Orlesians have, is a lie?" Dorian feigned shock by placing his hand over his heart and gasping loudly.

"No, that is true. I do need to speak with the Duke; I'm doing that tomorrow."

"Must I be present for that as well?"

"Not unless you want to be a witness to my poor attempts at negotiating."

"What is the reason you demanded me be at your side today?"

Remy sighed and stood before a shop door with what appeared to be a coat-of-arms painted on the sign. This must've been the place. A ball of nerves began to bubble, in a pleasant sort of way, in his guts. He closed his eyes and brought up recent memories regarding the time he shared with Josephine.

Her smile, so sweet and infectious; it brought a radiance of happiness to any troubling day. She was wonderfully kind to everyone, including those who didn't deserve that kindness. He loved to hear her shy giggle when they met in the gardens to steal kisses while the Chantry members present ignored them and continued to pray the Chant of Light.

His heart skipped a beat as he thought about the times he was able to pull her away from that massive desk. As much as he wanted to rip the elaborate silk ensemble she garbed herself in he took the time to gently remove every ruffle and layer to gaze upon her perfect, unaltered form before they made love. He adored every inch of her, even the parts she openly expressed dislike for; the little rolls of flesh at her stomach and hips, the divots of uneven skin on her thighs which she claimed was a plague for all women of the Montilyet House, the myriad of dark freckles that dotted over her body. She was so beautiful!

And sensitive, too! She would blush with embarrassment when he did something that made her moan a little louder than normal. Her delicate hands would cover her mouth before she laughed and chided him. But when she let herself go; oh, Maker's Breath! It made him just a little bit excited as he thought about how she would curl her legs around his hips, drawing him deeper into her warmth while whispering his name in her rolling, lilting Antivan voice.

He brought himself back to reality with a few blinks and once more looked back up at the sign above the shop door.

"I brought you along because I can trust you to keep this as a secret," he admitted.

Dorian gave an honest smile and bowed his head in acceptance of the honor.

"Then I am happy to oblige, my friend." He placed a hand on Remy's shoulder and stopped him before entering the shop. "If we are bound by secrecy, then tell me this: do you love her?"

Remy glanced down at his feet and felt his heart tug again. Out of all the noble maidens he had known, once nearly married to keep families happy but disappeared before the wedding, not a single one made him smile at mere thought like Josie. He nodded and looked back up at his friend and confidante.

"Yes. I love her very much."


End file.
